Rage & Children
by SLOVA
Summary: A young woman by the name of Emory is creating a disturbance in England. Children are losing their livelihood, hardly able to even get out of bed. It is a sort of virus. Her Majesty has heard of it, so the young earl takes it upon himself to rid the London streets of their nuisance. Unfortunately, Ciel begins to understand that the girl is closer to Sebastian's world than his own.


**A new story to rekindle my love of Black Butler. Enjoy!**

* * *

The profoundly esteemed Phantomhive estate was all in a bustle on this particular morning - the twelfth of June. And why was this? Well, naturally, whenever the formidable Phantomhive name expects the company of guests, the staff begin their very best preparations. Unfortunately, the Phantomhive name carried on through a boy, Ciel, and his staff were . . . less than capable. The cook, Bardroy, can't make a decent dish. The maid, Meyrin makes a bigger mess than she attempts to clean up. The gardener, Finny, is as reckless as he is friendly. Tanaka, the respected elderman, found his duty best served quietly enjoying a cup of steaming tea (he quite enjoys Thyme). And then there was Ciel Phantomhive's _personal_ butler, Sebastian. If there were ever a finer, more loyal butler, it's practically _assumed_ that Sebastian would, in _many _ways, prove that notion wrong almost immediately.

Off the matter of the help, you may wonder, _W__ho is this esteemed guest? Surely they must be someone very respectable! From a good house's name! A nobleman! The Queen herself?_ Please, don't get carried away. Don't you think if the _Queen_ were coming, those three simpletons would be ordered, far, far away from the estate? Come now - _really._ The guest is far less of such assumed class. The guest is one girl. One simple girl, that's right! I was as surprised as you are when _I _found out. A vision of abnormal beauty though, that one. Oh, her hair that so resembles a bird's nest, both in color and texture. Oh! Reader, don't take that the wrong way. It isn't her fault she doesn't have a comb. But I'd never jest of a lady's beauty. Their guest is indeed a sight to see. Her skin as pale as the shoulders of a nobleman, her wonderfully large eyes grey in color. Though, the most charming thing about this girl: her demeanor - set to make a prince stutter! Her class astounds me for one reason: she doesn't have one single coin to her name.

And now you may ask, _why is a poor girl the guest of the hour at the Phantomhive estate?_ You see, this poor, dreary girl, she has been on the young Lord Phantomhive's mind quite a lot recently. And he would absolutely appreciate it if she were to _get off_.

_He's in love_, you may cheer, to which I firmly reject you. The young lord isn't in love. Quite the contrary - this girl is a nuisance.

"Ach, I've gone and forgot where I put the good towels, yes, I did!" Meyrin lamented, frantically searching around the kitchen. A heavy sigh introduced Sebastian into the room. The butler wasn't angry or exhausted - disappointment just greeted him like an old friend. An old friend that took multiple forms in this house. He settled Meyrin down by the finding the towels himself. He then fluidly moved to the kitchen, retrieving freshly-made biscuits for tea from the oven. His work never allowed him to have much free time, but he wasn't the type to simply sit down with a book, not while Ciel Phantomhive was still awake and _almost_ needing something for Sebastian to go and fetch. A knock on the door came, a quarter to noon, and Sebastian straightened his gloves before heading out into the foyer. The guest had arrived. Ordinarily peculiar for a girl her age - she was hardly even fifteen - _seventeen_ - at best.

Sebastian opened the door, greeting the weary girl with a pleasant smile. "Ah, yes - you must be Miss Emory Volkova. We've been expecting your arrival. Please, do come in." The regal butler stepped aside and bowed. The young lady entered, but not without suspicion. Sebastian offered to take her coat, but she refused.

"I'd rather keep it on my person," she replied casually. "I don't intend to stay for very long."

"As you wish," Sebastian allowed. "Please, follow me. My young lord has eagerly been awaiting to meet you."

"I haven't a doubt that he's spared no expense to invite the common drabble to his home," Miss Emory Volkova remarked, though it was playfully unclear if she was joking or not.

Sebastian assured her anyway, "Here at the Phantomhive estate, we treat every guest as though they were our last and only."

Miss Emory Volkova thought that was a blatant lie, but she wouldn't comment on it. She wanted to leave here peacefully, not be forced out. Though the morning was bright and slow, there was still time to try their patience. Sebastian led her to a sitting room where the young lord of Phantomhive sat in a lavish armchair adjacent to another. A small end table sat between them, harboring a tray of warm biscuits. "Master," greeted the handsome butler. "May I introduce to you - Miss Emory Volkova."

The young lord rose to his feet and approached the pair, offering out his hand to his guest. "Welcome - I trust you had no issues coming here," invited he. "I am Ciel Phantomhive."

Miss Emory Volkova shook his hand briefly before hiding it away beneath her cloak again. "Issues or not, I've arrived," she reminded casually. "Why have you summoned me?"

Ciel was used to his guests enjoying his house, enjoying his butler. This girl was straight to business. He appreciated that in a way. He preferred to keep his good tea locked away. But he still needed to extend to her the same courtesy as everyone else.

"Why don't you have a seat and we'll speak." Ciel said, taking his own seat again as Sebastian the Able placed down a tea set, with all the fixtures to make a delectable cup.

Emory didn't touch _her_ cup, however. She was far too cautious of strangers, especially nobles, to drink so easily. But though she didn't drink it, the aroma was unmistakable. "That is Earl Grey," she commented. "It's a very cynical tasting tea." She pulled her hood back and swept her hair over to one shoulder.

Ciel was oddly surprised. Commoners didn't know every tea, that was true, but this girl seemed just poor in her lowly cloak and boots. But she spoke in a very diplomatic manner, well studied in charisma. A mild, boyish blush swept his proud cheeks when she pulled down her hood, but he cleared his throat and continued. "I'm impressed - not many can identify tea just by its scent."

Miss Emory Volkova didn't appreciate the small talk - it was a mistake just commenting on the drink.

"Forgive me," Ciel continued, "but you have a peculiar name."

"My father was a Russian, my mother was an Englishwoman," she replied.

"I see. Was your father of . . . higher _standing_, or-"

"Was there a reason you summoned me here other than for my peculiar name, Lord Phantomhive? If not, I'll take my leave."

Ciel didn't like being interrupted, but he respected her just enough to let this little obstruction go for now. "I'm certain you can take a guess as to why you're here."

The look of smugness in Ciel's eyes annoyed Miss Emory Volkova greatly. Frankly, she didn't know why this _twelve _-year-old wanted her. Imagine his smugness now that she glared at him as sharply as a new dagger could pierce. "No, actually," said the commoner. "Seeing as you are a child, not a law-enforcement officer, nor a doctor worried for my mental health, I don't see why I was summoned here to be stared at as if you've held some account over me."

Ciel wasn't one to be called a _child_ lightly. He _was_ one, but for Heaven's love above, girl! Don't you dare remind him. "You are disrupting this city so much that Her Majesty has heard news of it. I brought you here to end the havoc."

"And what havoc may that be," flirted she. "Lord Phantomhive?"

Ciel rose to his feet, infuriated by her entire disposition. "You are taking the light out of children-!"

Emory found his profound little stance adorable, so she silenced a chuckle - _poorly _- into her fist. "Have you any idea how absurd that sounds?"

"Then take off your cloak."

Emory's smile vanished. "Take off your eyepatch."

Seeing as _both_ of them were stubborn children, Sebastian foresaw that this could go on for quite a while - this back and forth - so he knelt down in front of his master. "My young lord, I do believe your tea is getting cold."

Ciel sat down again and, mannerly as a king, sipped at his drink.

"Careful not to burn your tongue, Earl Phantomhive," commented Emory plainly. "It would be a shame if you couldn't speak." She tapped her fingertips wickedly on the arm of her chair and looked away so she wouldn't have to suffer his angry little face.

Sebastian came up beside her, smiling hospitably. "Miss Emory, it would save us a good deal of time if we were to discuss the matter at hand like adults."

"When I am accused of a _serious_ allegation, I will cooperate," she responded dryly. "I felt more accommodated begging for scraps than enduring this infernal interview." She looked to the young Lord Phantomhive. "You _and_ your butler have a heinous aura about you and it has laced itself within the halls of this home. If I were ever to confess to anything, it would not be here - to you."

Promptly, the lady stood up and headed for the door.

Ciel rose.  
"_The child given unto the world  
Is shot with venom fire from the sky  
Accosts children to please its lord  
For without them he will surely die_"

Emory stopped, grinding her teeth. She turned around. prepared to holler at the boy, but Sebastian stood directly in her way. He was there so suddenly; she thought he was still over by her chair! And now he set his hands on her shoulders.

"What are you-!"

"Excuse me," he said politely, then tore away her cloak, exposing her arms, littered with white, spider-vein like markings, as if she were struck by lightning.

"You bastard-!"

Venom fire, indeed.

* * *

**Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**


End file.
